


Return

by mmmdraco



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Hair-pulling, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was supposed to have been back hours before, but the extra wait didn't exactly have negative effects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhoenixSoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSoul/gifts).



She took a deep breath before she turned the key in the lock, slowly exhaling as she gripped the doorknob, then inhaling again, sharply, as she turned it and pushed the door inward. She felt hands on her immediately, one on each arm, and then she was thrown against the wall and her breath was knocked from her, rendering her preparations useless. She forced her lungs and her diaphragm to calm as she looked down at one of the hands that held her and followed the muscular, veiny arms up to bare, sculpted shoulders. She let herself be held and raised one leg, using it to kick the door shut, and then pressing the toe of her boot against the knob for the deadbolt until the lock slid into place, the sound immediately drowned out as she gulped at the air. "Clint," she finally said through dry lips, "I see you didn't bother with a shirt today."

His hands slid up and slowly along the outer edge of her jacket, the pressure soft enough to be teasing. Her eyes closed as his fingertips skated along her neck, then finished their slide upward as they tangled in her hair, each knuckle seeming to catch at least a strand and pulling as his fists closed, causing pressure more than pain and making her cant her head backward, exposing more of her throat to him. "You were supposed to be back hours ago, Tasha." He pushed forward and his lips were on hers, his teeth catching at her bottom lip and drawing it into his own mouth, tougue laving every bitemark as he went. 

Clint moved on quickly, clutching more tightly at her hair, and his lips followed the arch her body made against the wall in the entryway, grazing past chin and neck and collarbone, and then he pressed a kiss to the top of each of her breasts. Her hands were still down, pressed beside her, and she let them work now, moving to catch at his own hair; knowing her fingernails dug into his scalp. He groaned and the sound seemed to reverbate down her spine. "There was still a little red," she murmurred as she let go of him and moved to taking off her jacket. She let it land on the floor and placed a hand on his bare chest. "I'm here now, and I'm ready to make up for lost time." She shoved him backward hard so that he tripped backward until he was against the opposite wall of the entryway. She was on him in moments.

He let his fingers tease at her stomach, stroking her curves as he pulled her shirt from the top of her pants, edging it endlessly upward. She licked her lips, biting the bottom one, taking a breath through her nose as he brought his thumbs under the edge of her bra as well and tugged shirt and bra, both, upward in a quick motion. Underwires and elastic scraped at her nipples and caught in her hair before he tossed them to one side and grabbed her hips and pulled her close, lifting her so that her chest was heaving in front of him as she tried to catch the breath he kept stealing from her with ease. Her hands slid around his neck and her nails scraped against his flesh, making him smile.

Natasha hissed when his mouth moved to the outer edge of one breast and he placed a forceful kiss along it, his stubble scraping against her flesh. His mouth moved by increments only he could measure, moving ever closer to her nipple but taking far too long. She wasn't the type to wait for anyone to finish teasing her, least of all Clint after she'd been out on a mission for weeks, so she moved one hand up to his hair again, her fingers grabbing roughly at him, and physically moved him. He took the hint and drew her nipple into his mouth, his teeth closing against the base and his tongue flicking against the nub of flesh in his mouth. One of his hands moved from her hip to close on the other nipple, teasing it to further hardness with flicks and pulls, and then his hand closed around her breast, pushing it upward as he squeezed, adding the sensation of pressure against her chest. She shoved off of him then, her breathing fast and heavy and his mouth reddened and wet.

She groaned as she had to take the time to unlace her boots as she watched him skin out of the tight jeans he wore, his thick fingers dragging down his underwear as well and leaving her with a great view of his cock arching toward his muscled abdomen while she had barely bared an ankle. Her fingers moved faster on the other boot and she kicked them off into a corner as she stood, hands already peeling the rest of her clothes off. She left them in a pile on the floor and took the last few steps toward him. Clint was grinning and she raised one eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

He embraced her again and drew her toward him, making her moan as she felt the warmth of his flesh pressing against her own. Clint leaned down and bit her ear lobe, then whispered against it, "You're still wearing your socks."

Natasha leaned her head back just enough to catch and hold his gaze when he stood straight again. "You floor is cold." She paused a moment. "Let's warm it up."

Clint grinned as he pulled her down on top of him onto the hardwood floors and she shivered just from the touch of her hands against it, but shook off the sensation and turned her thoughts to him again, regaining focus. "Are you sure you want me on top?"

"Always," he muttered and his hands pulled at one piece of hair that curled against the side of her face. She was wet already, noticeably so, so it was the work of a moment to catch her fingers at the base of his cock and slide onto him, groaning as she sank down onto his hardness. Her knees pressed against the wooden floor as she began to move slowly, up and down, a smile etching itself upon her face as she watched his twist into ecstacy. Her hips stilled briefly as she leaned forward to lay against his chest, but she pushed them to motion again as she licked along his collabone and sank her teeth into the muscle along the side of his neck, her eyes closing at the way his hips jerked upward in reaction.

His hands closed on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, but he let her control the pace and the motion, content to hold her. Her fingers scratched against his chest as she sat back up, moaning at the press of him inside of her, and she worked herself harder, faster, onto him.

Clint came first, his knees rising and stilling behind her as his hips stiffened and an animalistic noise seemed to be physically pulled from him. Natasha twisted her hips against his, moving faster at the feel of him pulsing inside of her, and felt her own pleasure bloom.

She leaned back minutely on top of him, panting, and he reached up again and tugged that same strand of hair from where it had become plastered against her cheek with sweat. "I'm glad you're back," he said as his knuckles brushed against her cheek.

She caught at his wrist and pulled his thumb to her mouth, kissing the pad of his finger, before pulling his hand to her chest and holding it close. "And what a welcome it was."


End file.
